Thirst
by Mary B. Wolf
Summary: Only she can quench my thirst. Sequel to 'Hunger' by Li Michal.


So it's not my best work...I had trouble with it. Lots. But...if Li will let me, I would like to do something else with _Hunger_. Something very fun.

Oh, and if I owned Naruto, why the hell would I post this at fanfiction? KakaSaku would end up canon. Thanks to Li Michal for writing _Hunger_, which inspired this (crappy) piece of work. I'll do my best to make it up to you with something else. I promise.

_--_Wolfie-lou

_I am in the harshest desert in its dry season._

_I am in the rainforest in the monsoons._

_I am in the subarctic in winter._

_I am thirsty._

_I am hungry._

_I want her._

_She is the one thing I cannot have.

* * *

_

I didn't look at her for so long because I was afraid of what would show on my face—the thoughts that permanently invaded my brain, thoughts about us being together even when it is so, so against the traditions, beliefs law of our country, our people.

More than once, I wanted to simply break the law and take her and run away, or even face the prison sentence or her rejection just so I would know and so I could stop the damn wondering all the time.

I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself for thinking of my much younger student (_Former_, that less-than-strong part of me that likes to imagine us reminds me) in this way, but I don't always imagine us in bed, tangled together. What I imagine when I think of her is just being with her, in her presence, soaking up her face, her scent, her laughter. Stealing little kisses and embraces and touches and her letting me.

My favorite is our wedding. She would wear a beautiful gown and smile at seeing me in my suit, with Gai bound and gagged and acting as my best man and that obnoxious blonde girl, Asuma's old student, as her maid of honor. The rings of silver would be exchanged and she'd pull the veil over the both of us to hide my face for our kiss after we've been declared man and wife. The guests will groan, but Sakura and I share a laugh at their expense.

That certainly doesn't mean I don't imagine us in bed, tangled together. I've seen at least a dozen different versions of our wedding night, and none of them are any less than completely x-rated.

They only got worse after she kissed me in the hospital, and demanded that I look at her, talk to her, like she was a grown woman. I nearly flipped her over that day to carry out one of my fantasies—though none of them involved an unlocked hospital room, an IV drip with blood and her having saved my life immediately beforehand.

This only added to my already alarming possessive streak regarding her, to the point that now I'm tailing her on dates and praying for opportunities to mess them up.

Neji has her out to a movie right now. It's an innocent children's film, but Sakura requested it, and Neji went along more than willingly. I can hear her giggles at the silly jokes and the occasional low chuckle from Neji. I get up to leave, but only end up buying a soft drink at the concessions stand before going back in and staring at the back of her head until the credits begin to roll. She leaves with Neji and I overhear them talking about where to go for a late bite to eat while I stay in my seat and lament my cowardice.

When I finally emerge from the cinema, intent on going to the bar to drink away my troubles, I spot Neji waiting patiently outside the bathrooms.

"Kakashi-sempai," he calls. "That's an odd movie choice for one with tastes such as yours."

"Yes," I sigh, "it is. I've seen it four times now. I can't stop thinking about it, though. It's gotten under my skin." I turn to again to leave as the door to the ladies' room swings open and Sakura emerges, a smile on her lips. It widens when she spots Neji but fades a little when sees me.

"Kakashi-sensei," she greets cautiously.

"Sakura-chan," I say back. "I was just heading out for a drink. Nice to see you. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Neji-kun. Sakura-chan." I give them an eye crinkle and jutsu myself away. I end up outside the tavern, make my way inside and order a bottle of sake, which I down without a glass.

Before too long, I'm completely gone. Gai wanders in at this point, babbling about the beauty of youth. I'm too drunk to care anymore, so I belt him in the face—or try to. I stand up, slur an idiotic threat and spin a circle before eating the floor.

He laughs, promises to tell the story to my grandkids, and takes me home. He first relates the story to me the next morning, when I mumble a half-hearted apology.

I nurse my hang over for the better part of the morning, until a knock sounds on my door.

"Kakashi-sensei! Open the damn door!" yells Sakura.

_Son of a…_

"TenTen sent me over! She said Gai-sensei told Neji, who told her, that you were acting like an idiot last night, and you had a terrible hang over," she shouts through the door. "Let me in, I can fix it!"

"Go away, Sakura," I call through the door.

"Fine," she answers. I can hear the pout in her voice and then the fading footsteps as she walks away.

For a moment, I am seized by an irrational urge to call her back and talk to her.

I miss her so much.

I swallow three tablets of aspirin and finally find the will to venture out of doors. I find myself drawn to training grounds three, where I know Sakura is probably sparring with Ino.

I attempt to divide my attention between Icha Icha and the pair of battling kunoichi, but it is repeatedly drawn to the fluid movements Sakura uses and the blocks Ino puts up. Finally, the blonde dismisses herself, presumably to head back to her parents' flower shop, and Sakura slumps against a tree.

I give up on my book and hop down from the branch I have been using as a sofa for the past two hours and make my way over to her.

"Stand up," I command. She slants me a puzzled look. "We never finished our match from before. Up."

She laughs. "No." Her beryl eyes harden and her hands lift to contort into the odd shapes for the seals of a teleportation jutsu. A surge of my own chakra, through the finger I touch to her wrist, stops the flow of hers; she is unable to complete the technique and she slaps my hand away roughly. "Don't touch me," she snaps. "You…you…" she trails off, sputtering with rage. Her eyes narrow.

"Me…me…what, Sakura? Me…what? What am I?" I demand, suddenly furious with her.

"You are a son of a bitch, that's what you are," she hisses. "And a damn liar, and a fucking smartass, and I fucking hate you…and…and…oh my god, I love you." She's sobbing. "I fucking love you…how did _that_ happen?"

For the most part, I am stunned beyond words. Thoughts are not beyond me, however, and they are racing.

To condemn me. To condemn her. To condemn us.

**_She's only sixteen. She can't understand love._**

_She does, though. She does. She understands. And I love her too._

I tug her to her feet, using her wrists and hold her close.

I'm dehydrated and only she can quench my thirst.


End file.
